My Cremation

I fear, indeed, that I will be long forgotten,
for this skin is nothing but kindling for the fire,
these bones will be ashes for the air,
these eyes will be eyes for the blind,
these organs will be donors for the lost;
I fear, indeed, that I will be a shadow,
suck the marrow from my bones
and this life still won’t be enough.
These grudges I hold are holding me back,
this life were living will never be intact,
I lack confidence to produce
but this girl will be the black in the back of your mind.
I will be a shadow, a dark place,
where you can see hope through a microscope,
and peace on the pinpoint of your finger.
To never suffer means never to have lived,
for without one you cannot have the other.
I fear, indeed, of death,
that I will never forgive life,
drain out my blood and give it to the next man,
give my lungs to those who haven’t sighed,
and my heart to those who haven’t loved,
as if pursuing the sun ever had purpose.
I regret glancing instead of seeing
all those rainbow raindrops,
and freckled sunrises,
the candied coffee,
and all this mysterious mess.
My cremation will never be a forest fire,
will never ignite souls with sadness,
will never infect doors with disappointment,
will never move emotions with agony,
will never crush hearts with hurt.
Let them spread my ashes among mountains,
my flesh growing as a dandelion.
Let them let my ash stir into streams,
my bones ingested by majestic animals.
Let them dance.
Just a grain of sand that touches
one other grain of sand,
that crushes many other grains of sand,
and we will stand as an ocean,
and fall as a tear,
so small we are,
but tall is near.
Grasp my hand to his,
and his to hers,
and hers to your mothers,
and brothers to yours.
Let us dance over the ashes
and the bodies that beat,
clap our hands to the music,
sing loud,
and stomp our feet.
Let us forgive but not forget,
let go with no regrets.
My cremation will never be a forest fire.
I fear, indeed, not of being forgotten
but of how I will be remembered.